Poker Night
by Mr Nuked Duck
Summary: Few things intrigued Roman Torchwick as much as money. Poker just happened to be one of the things that did. (Implied Roman Ice Cream & Just Right)
1. Roman Torchwick

**Few things intrigued Roman Torchwick as much as money. Poker just so happened to be one of the things that did.**

* * *

Being a big-shot crime boss was no easy task, even for a man like Roman Torchwick. His business was a demanding such, especially when it came to working with people like Cinder Fall. Between cleaning out dust-shops and smacking around heavily armed school girls, there just wasn't a whole lot of room to simply enjoy oneself. A conscious sacrifice, Roman knew, as he had been in the game for about as long as he cared to remember. Still, every once in a while, even he felt the need to disappear, if even for a breath or two, to a place where he could indulge in more leisurely activities – a place most commonly referred to as: The Club.

* * *

" _What is the deal with her hair?"_ Miltia whispered, leaning towards her sister as to not be overheard.

" _Tell me about it!"_ Melanie replied, failing the urge to shudder. " _And those eyes! They're giving me the creeps!"_

The person in question, a young girl with brown and pink hair, lined with streaks of white, paid them no mind as she watched the bartender work behind the counter. Her mind was on much more important things, such as the triple-scoop ice cream sunday she was just about to receive. Her dangling feet made a happy little dance she watched the tender add the giant cream spiral. The cherry on top was, obviously, just that: a cherry, along with a myriad of sprinkles.

As the colourful dessert was finally presented to her, Neo could barely contain herself. Practically bouncing in her seat - like a kid at an ice cream shop, quite accurately – she proved to be anything but slow to dig in. If she had mind enough to do so, she would have to thank Roman later.

" _Doesn't she get a brain-freeze?!"_ Miltia asked, astonished, as she watched the ice cream disappear, bit by bit.

" _Are you kidding?"_ Melanie said with a malicious smirk. _"I bet her_ whole brain _is made of ice cream!"_

The twins broke out in a collective giggle as Neo continued to enjoy her treat, either blissfully unaware or simply unconcerned. Though, considering her priorities, probably the latter.

* * *

Roman peeked at his cards with little to no apparent interest, careful not to let his poker face slip as he silently wagered his odds. Five of clubs and nine of hearts, a virtually useless combination, he mentally noted as he tossed a glance at his fellow player: the club owner himself, Hei Xiong, better known as Junior. His bearded features were easy enough to read against the darkened room, lit up, as they were, by the single spotlight centred above their table. He was wearing his sunglasses, no doubt a desperate attempt to boost his confidence. Despite his reputation as the most prominent informer in all of Vale, Junior's uncanny sense of perception, funny enough, didn't make him any better as a poker player.

Still, he made for a much more interesting opponent than Neo. Not only was her poker face unmatched, but she was also a relentless cheater. Then again, he probably shouldn't be so surprised. She was _his_ trainee, after all. Plus, with Junior, there was always the opportunity for smalltalk. Not that Roman was terribly interested in anything the man had to say, but he did enjoy the sound of his own voice. That, and it made their game that much livelier.

Like spices on a meal, it added some flavour to an otherwise bland mix of social interaction.

 _Speaking of which...!_ Roman thought, recalling a snippet of conversation he'd overheard in the barroom earlier.

"So, I hear you've been getting quite a few visits from a certain fiery, blond huntress lately!" Roman began, hoping Junior would catch on. He added a soft chuckle. "Care to fill in the blanks for me?"

Looking past his red sunglasses, Junior shot him a glare.

"No."

"Well, you're certainly no fun!" Roman drawled, checking his cards briefly before raising the stakes. "And here I thought we had a connection! I mean, we're _poker buddies_ , right? We can tell each other things!"

"There's nothing to talk about." Junior replied, bluntly, as he called.

"Oh, _please_! You don't have to be such a wuss about it!" Roman said as he began dealing the community cards. "You're hardly the first to fall for an underage girl! Besides, it's not like the signs haven't been there all along. I mean, just look at your entourage."

Junior's whiskey glass hit the table just a bit too hard to be passed of as an accident. Roman's smirk promptly disappeared as he looked up to find the bearded behemoth glaring daggers at him. At least, that's what it looked like. It was sort of difficult to tell with the glasses in the way.

"Miltia and Melanie are nothing like that!" Junior spoke in little more than a murderous whisper.

Roman could take a hint. The twins were obviously off-limits. That being said, he didn't so much _fear_ Junior - in fact, he felt pretty confident he could take him in a fight – but at the prospect of messing up poker night, one of the few, leisurely pleasures Roman still had, he decided not to press the matter further.

"Hey, whatever you say, big guy!" Roman crooned, trying to wave it off. "I'm just saying: there's no shame in, ah, _broadening your horizons_!"

Junior scoffed.

"Like you're one to talk, Mr. Ice cream man."

Once again, Roman's smug expression dropped. He actually hadn't seen that one coming. Unlike Junior, though, he didn't wear his aggression on his sleeves. Thus, any signs of annoyance or frustration were kept to an absolute minimum, like the way he squeezed his cane ever so slightly.

"Neo?" Roman gave it some serious thought. "I suppose. She's cute enough." He shrugged. "Ah, but you know what they say: you should never bring romance to the office!"

"Exactly." Junior deadpanned as he pushed his remaining chips into the pot, going all in.

Roman went silent as he stared at the pile of would-be money. Junior, likewise, said nothing as he arched a knowing brow at his opponent, as if daring him to go on.

Roman sighed as he tossed his cards.

"Fold."


	2. Qrow Branwen

**Junior drinks whiskey. Qrow prefers scotch.**

* * *

Poker night at The Club, regardless of what Roman Torchwick thought, wasn't at all restricted to include only him. In fact, ever since he gave up street-brawling in favour of running a club, it had been one of Junior's most favoured habits - besides whiskey, that is. Of course, while the game itself was decent enough, playing it was only as enjoyable as the people he happened to be playing with. As such – and as irony would have it - one of his most favoured opponents just so happened to be a shaggy old huntsman by the name of Qrow.

* * *

"Did I ever tell you about my nieces?" Qrow asked in a slurred voice, leaning against the poker table like a drunken sack of potatoes.

"Only thirty-two times and counting." Junior answered, plainly, as he added a stack of chips to the pot.

The huntsman, just as plainly, ignored his comment as he turned to stare at the reflections in his empty glass.

"The oldest is a troublemaker, just like her mother!" he began to reminisce, smiling all the while. "But she's blond, like her old man!"

"But she has her eyes." Junior filled in as he added another stack. He had heard the story plenty a time and could easily give a fairly detailed description of both girls at this point. He could only hope he would never have to meet this older niece of Qrow's. One troublemaking blonde, armed or not, was more than enough for him!

" _And_ her temper!" Qrow added with a dumb grin, shaking his head at the prospect. He paused here to chuckle at what Junior could only assume to be a fond memory. "You should see her go off on these punks for making fun of her sister! I don't think I've ever seen high schoolers run so fast from a fifth grader!" His sentence ended in a raspy cackle, making his shoulders jump as the laughter wound down. "Ah, never a dull moment with that one; lemme' tell ya! S'like tryin' to contain a forest fire!"

Junior couldn't help but to smile along as he raised his glass at the man. He knew the feeling all too well. Never one to pass up a toast, Qrow was anything but slow to mirror the action: tipping his glass in sync with the other, only to pause, rewind; and realize, rather dumbly, that his glass was empty. Rolling his eyes at the fact, the huntsman reached for a bottle.

"Then there's the youngest...!" he casually picked up as he poured himself another drink. Here, his lips curved into a fond smile, bearing his teeth ever so slightly. "She's about the sweetest kid ya could ever hope to meet! Kind, caring, honest..." Then, as quickly as it came, his smile froze and disappeared. _"Just like her mother."_ he finished in a low voice.

Silence filled the atmosphere as Junior watched him pause, shake the thought from his head; and sweep the scotch in a heartbeat. He didn't ask. He knew better than to stick his nose where it didn't belong, lest he run the risk of getting his eyes pecked out. Alcoholic or not, Qrow was a force to be reckoned with and Junior held a great deal of respect for the old huntsman. Even now, after weeks of unexplained absence, he still retained the unspoken title of Junior's favourite customer.

"Anyway, where was I?" the huntsman continued, passing it off as nothing. "Oh, yeah! She's always wanted to become a huntress, so I trained her to use a scythe!"

Junior's face shifted in amusement.

"A scruffy old drunk teaching a kid how to swing a deadly weapon?" he reiterated, only to end in a scoff. "Yeah, that _does_ sound like something you would do!"

Qrow could only chuckle along at the fact as he poured himself another fill.

"Believe me, pal, if I hadn't been there to teach her, she would've taught herself!" he said with a knowing smirk. " _Stubbornness_ \- it's goes in the family!"

"Preach." Junior fell in as he began dealing the community cards. This was looking to be a good hand, he noted, looking at three jacks - right off the bat.

"So," Qrow began, glancing at the cards before raising the stakes. "What've _you_ been up to these last couple'a months?"

"Renovations, mostly." Junior replied as he moved to do the same, face shifting in a slight frown. "Finances, contractors, insurance policies - you know: _boring crap_!"

"Health inspector gotcha' cornered?" Qrow asked with a grin as he watched another community card get added.

Junior scoffed.

"I wish!" he said, shaking his head at the jumbled memories. "Nah, some goldilocks came in here a couple of months ago, looking for information!" Following Qrow's example, he moved to drink. "Just about crushed my gonads looking for it, too."

Hearing that, Qrow barely managed to catch himself before exploding in a giant spit take, forcing the liquor down his throat instead, resulting in a series of violent coughs.

" _Yeah, tell me about it...!"_ Junior grumbled, shaking his head at the unpleasant memories as he waited for Qrow to stop coughing. Having done just that, Junior continued. "Anyway, long story short: I didn't have what she wanted, so she ended up trashing the place!"

"Sounds like quite a spitfire!" the huntsman remarked in a choked voice, grinning wryly as reached for the bottle again.

"You have _no_ idea!" Junior replied, shaking his head at the matter, though not without a slight grin.

"Tell you what:" Qrow shot him a smirk over the tilted bottle. "If she ever shows up again, I'll kick her ass for ya!"

Junior paused to consider the matter briefly.

"Yeah, thanks but no thanks." he declined. "Knowing you, there won't be any club left to save at the end!"

Qrow let another chuckle escape his lips as he raised his glass at the man. That marked the end, not only of their conversation, but also the round.

"Full house." Junior said, revealing a pair of kings.

"Four of a kind." Qrow returned, revealing the last jack and an ace.

Junior made a face at the realization of his loss. How this scruffy old drunk kept winning was beyond him.

"Well, that should just about cover my tab!" Qrow smiled, glancing at the now empty bottle standing by his side. "I'll just take one for the road!"

Junior couldn't help but to chuckle.

* * *

 _Many thanks to everyone who's favourited this story so far! Feel free to leave a review and tell me what you think!_


	3. Flynt Coal

**Summary: Coal. Flynt Coal?**

* * *

Visitors from Atlas were a rare thing in Junior's experience, understandably so, given their military vibe and killjoy attitude towards most things associated with a place like The Club. So, when an Atlas huntsman-in-training showed up at his bar one night the man wasn't expecting much at first. Yet, to his pleasant surprise, he came to realize that the kid not only defied his low expectations, but actually had style - the sort of style that could earn one a place at his private poker table.

Luckily, his far less stylish, albeit far more energetic feline friend seemed to prefer the dance floor over some stuffy, old poker room. That, and - unlike the twins - Junior didn't very much appreciate her comment about his beard being "too hobo".

* * *

"Now, _this_ is my kinda' setting!" Flynt smoothly remarked as they entered the room, leaving the madness of the barroom behind. No flashing lights, no neon trimmings, no rowdy pop-music; just a single spotlight centred above some stylish furniture, all to the sound a soothing jazz-beat playing in the background. All in all, it wasn't all that different from his favourite jazz-club back in Atlas.

"Whiskey?" Junior offered as he split from his guest, guiding his steps towards a nearby counter.

"Nah, I'm good!" Flynt declined as he slipped into one of the chairs, made of fine oak and even finer leather, before tossing his feet up on the table. Nodding his head in silent approval, the trumpeter spared another sweeping glance at the setting. "This' a nice place you got here! Tell me, what's a guy gotta do to own a club like this?"

Junior smiled knowingly at the question as he watched the whiskey spill into his glass.

"It's kind of like poker, really!" he explained over his shoulder. "Just play your cards right and you'll come out on top!"

"That easy, huh?" Flynt said with a cocked brow.

Junior gave a soft chuckle as he turned to lean against the counter.

"Doesn't hurt to have an ace up your sleeve!"

Flynt made a face at the cryptic statement. Obviously, there was more to it than that. In fact, he suspected there to be a pretty interesting story* behind it all, albeit one the club owner didn't seem very eager to share at the moment.

"This' one of those "I'd tell ya, but then I'd have to kill ya" sorta' things?"

Junior scoffed in amusement as he pushed himself off the counter.

"Sure!" he grinned before bringing the glass up to his lips. "Let's go with that!"

Figuring that was as good of an answer as he was gonna get, Flynt decided to drop the subject as he watched the club owner take a seat across the table, placing his glass in a built-in holder before picking up the deck.

"So," Junior said as he shuffled the cards with practiced ease. "Casual, or are we playing for keeps?"

"'Fraid I ain't got a lot to offer!" Flynt shrugged, earnestly. "Not that I'd ever _lose_ , that is...!"

"Casual it is, then!" Junior promptly concluded as he began to deal the cards. Granted, it wouldn't be the first time he played for keeps against someone who couldn't pay him back – in fact, that's how most of his games with Qrow went down - but a strange kid coming all the way from Atlas, wielding what looked to be a weaponised trumpet, no less? No amount of style, class or charm in the _world_ could buy you _that_ kind of trust in less than an hour!

Looking past his square shades, Flynt checked his cards casually.

"So, you do this often?"

"Every now and then." Junior replied as he did the same, starting them off with an opening bet. "It all depends on who's available! That, and just how much nonsense I'm willing to put up with in a single sitting."

Flynt cracked a grin as he called the bet.

"I take it whiskey helps?"

"Like a charm!" Junior crooned and raised his glass in a small toast before tipping it skyward. Having done just that, he returned the glass to its holder. "So, what brings you all the way from Atlas?" Junior asked, already knowing the answer.

"Ever heard of a little thing called the Vytal Festival Tournament?" Flynt replied, casually, as he called the bet.

"You're a student at Atlas I take it, then?" Junior deduced before dealing the first community cards.

"Yeah, but not for long!" Flynt replied as he scanned the new cards. "I'm on the home stretch now! Just five more months and I'm officially a huntsman!" With that, he made the decision to raise. "Now, that's when the _real_ fun begins!"

"Fighting bloodthirsty Grimm in all shapes and sizes?" Junior asked as he called the bet, dealing another card.

"Hey, we all gotta make a livin'!" Flynt shrugged in reply, promoting a silent nod of agreement. "'sides," he added in a slightly more conscious tone. "I've got family to think of!"

Junior paused, at that, neglecting to deal the last community card as he turned to glance at his opponent.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothin'." Flynt shook his head, as if to discard the matter.

Junior didn't look so convinced. In the end, he decided not to push it. Still, he just couldn't shake the fact that something about his statement had struck a chord within him. Something about that word: family. It carried a lot of weight for Junior, just as it seemed to do for this kid.

He respected that.

"So, I take it you made it to the doubles?" Junior picked up as he finished the deal, placing the last community card.

"Yeah, we made it, alright!" Flynt replied before scanning the cards once again. "But that's as far as we got!"

"Shame." Junior nodded as he made a polite effort to frown.

In reality, he already knew about the outcome before he even asked. In fact, like most businesses and households around Remnant, he had been streaming the tournament live at The Club since the day it began, even going as far as expanding his business hours to include not just the nights, but also the days. After all, the Vytal Festival was a golden opportunity for every business owner in the kingdom of choice, whichever it happened to be that year, and Junior – like the rest of his 'peers' - had been anything but slow to make use of that opportunity.

Some of his patrons had even made it a thing to bet money on the outcome of each match. Never a fan of gambling - beyond the confines of poker, that is - Junior had made it just as much of a thing to stay as far away from their dealings as he possibly could. That is, _until_ he realized that a certain gauntlet-wielding huntress was competing in the tournament. After that, the so-called gambling felt more like a sound investment. After all, he already knew who would come out on top...!

In light of their most recent match, Junior figured it best to keep that last bit of information to himself. No need to twist the knife.

"Yeah, well... they earned it!" Flynt admitted, albeit with a hint of reluctance, as he peeked at his new cards. "Gotta give props - even if it _is_ to a _Schnee_!" Junior sensed a hint of bitterness in his voice. Nevertheless, the kid continued: "It takes a lotta nerve to stand up for your friends like that! I respect that!" An amused little hum escaped his lips as they curved into a smile. "Guess you really can't judge a book by it's cover!"

"Words to live by...!" Junior concurred as he moved to make his final bet. "Pair of jacks."

"Four of a kind!" Flynt grinned in response, as he revealed a pair of aces.

Caught off-guard, Junior stared in surprise at the outcome. If he wasn't glad they played casual before, he sure was now.

"Doesn't hurt to have an ace up your sleeve, right?" Flynt grinned, cooly, as he echoed his words from before.

Junior responded with a lopsided smirk. He was starting to like this kid!

* * *

 ***That interesting story can be found under the title "Before Goldilocks" on my profile! Happy reading!**


End file.
